


The Plans That We Made

by Viridian5



Series: Above All This Bustle [3]
Category: due South
Genre: Christmas, Drama, Episode Related, Holiday, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-01-03
Updated: 2001-01-03
Packaged: 2017-10-02 08:06:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viridian5/pseuds/Viridian5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray and Fraser have dinner, musicals, a discussion of our oppressed red-nosed reindeer brothers, and an exchange of Christmas gifts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Plans That We Made

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for "Asylum," "Mountie on the Bounty," "Easy Money," "Odds," and especially "Good for the Soul."
> 
> Thanks to LaT for beta and discussions that helped me brainstorm when I got stuck. Thanks to katapult for coming through with a blow-by-blow _::cough::_ account of Fraser's "Good for the Soul" injuries for me after my VCR died and took my plans for researching the episode with it. Though I got a new one as a Christmas gift and finally saw most of GftS again for myself, her e-mails kept me writing 'til then.

"Anybody ever tell you that you make things harder on yourself than they have to be?" Ray asked as he cleared snow off the park bench with his arm and sat down beside Ben. Dief barked a greeting, and Ray ruffled his fur.

"Other than you, no."

"Somehow I doubt that."

"Are you calling me a liar?"

"Oh, hell no. I know you're no liar. You just obscure the truth with evasions and pretty words."

Ben couldn't help smiling a little. "Well, there you go."

"I looked for you for hours earlier."

"I made sure you wouldn't be able to find me to drag me in."

"If I had a little more time, I would've gotten you, but I had a timetable for the festivities. I almost continued looking for you anyway, but Mum called me to say she needed me over there already. And now you're sitting in the snow with only a deaf half-wolf for company, when ya could have been at a Christmas celebration with food and prezzies."

"Yes."

"You're a freak."

"Granted."

Ray turned solemn. "You shouldn't be out here in the cold like this." He looked Ben in the face, perhaps to show that he could, but guilt vibrated through his eyes. His gaze skidded over Ben's scabs and bruises.

"Having some fading injuries doesn't make me a fragile invalid." Ben's conflicting feelings on what had happened made a tangled knot in his stomach. Ray hadn't been there to watch his back when Warfield's hirelings had attacked, but Ray and his fellow officers had moved at last to punish Warfield for his beating. They told him their actions could have put their careers on the line.

Ben loved Ray, and he knew Ray had refused to help in his quest for justice from Warfield for reasons Ray had found compelling and had explained, yet Ben couldn't help the twinges of resentment that struck him sometimes. The rawness of the feelings of betrayal and aloneness he'd felt as he dragged himself to his feet in that deserted alley lingered.

Yet Ben also knew that he hadn't been entirely right in his campaign, that his single-mindedness had blinded him a bit, that he'd been arrogant. He'd been right in some things, but Ray had been right in others. He couldn't quite wrap his mind and heart around everything that had happened and how he felt about it.

"Ya want eggnog? I brought a thermos." Ray took it out of his backpack and uncapped the plastic lid.

"I think I will. Thank you kindly."

"Tell me when."

As Ray poured into the plastic lid/cup, Ben examined him. When Ray didn't look guilty over Ben's injuries, he almost seemed to glow, so his day of family togetherness must have worked out well after all. Snow liberally dusted his attire, with the old cap and snow boots he wore making his dressy coat and pants seem even more incongruous.

"When." The eggnog tasted warm and rich. Spiked a little.

"You missed some shindig, ya know. Everybody was asking about you. And I would have liked to have had you there."

Some petty part of Ben's soul wanted to cry out that Ben would have liked to have had Ray with him in that alley. It was outvoted by the part that glowed for having Ray here now, with Ray having left all that family and warmth to go searching through the cold for Ben.

"Your adjusted day plan would have been even more wearing to me than your original, and my presence would have been one more distraction."

"Yeah, there sure are a lot of Vecchios. How do I survive getting my huge family gifts every year?"

"You live beyond your means, Ray."

"Oh. That figures."

Ray had originally planned a meal and time with his parents to be followed by a visit to the Vecchio household to maintain his cover. Once Mrs. Vecchio heard that Ray's parents were in town, she invited them to dinner in an effort to make his day easier. To Ray's surprise, they'd accepted the invitation. "Dad's not usually the large-groups-of-loud-people type," he'd said. The new arrangement seemed to take some of the stress away, since, as he'd also said, "Large groups of people give you a great excuse not to get into private, awkward moments with your dad."

When Ray had plans only with his parents, Ben had declined the invitation with the fearful intimacy of the occasion in mind. He'd get in the way of Ray's time with the parents he hadn't seen for so long. Once Mrs. Vecchio turned the affair into a Vecchio and Kowalski gathering, Ben had declined from the thought of all of those raucous people in one place. After the beating, he had another reason, as he didn't want to explain what had happened over and over to so many different people.

Besides, he wasn't family in either case.

A few times today he'd asked himself why he'd gone to so much trouble to avoid the very sort of Christmas day he'd long wanted from his own family, especially when those who had invited him certainly tried to make sure he'd feel welcome. Masochism?

"Everybody kept asking about you. I told them you had some traditional Mountie Christmas thing to do that involved extreme aloneness."

"You made excuses for me?"

Ray's mouth quirked. "I'm always making excuses for ya. Trying to explain the ways of Fraser to Americans."

Ben heard something else under Ray's words. "They were hurt by my absence?"

"Confused, more."

"Hurt."

"Mystified by it."

"Hurt."

Ray sighed. It was answer enough. Ben resolved to do something to make it up to them somehow.

"You still wanna spend the rest of the day with me, Fraser? I know we made those plans, uhm, before."

"Yes, Ray." Tangled emotions about the Warfield situation couldn't lessen Ben's clear feeling that he wanted to be with Ray. Alone. He didn't think he could bear anyone else right now.

"But we're spending it in my apartment. Outside, I can't tell you about my day without either blowing my story or sounding like a wackjob."

Ray had Ray Vecchio's cover to think of. Yet Ben didn't know if he could spend the day with Ray alone in the intimacy of Ray's apartment.

Seeing Ben's hesitation, Ray said, "You have to come home with me and eat some of the stuff they packed for you. Because otherwise you'll insult my mother, and when a guy insults your mother, ya have to throw down with him." Then Ray flinched as he thought about what he'd said and to whom. "Sorry."

"I think I will come with you."

"Good, good. But 'think'? Do, or do not. There is no 'think' here."

"You don't look anything like Yoda."

"The Force is in all of us, grasshopper." Ray stood and offered his hand to Ben. Ben gripped it and let Ray pull him up to his feet. "You gonna come home with me, or do I have to bring out the heavy guns?"

"What would those be?"

"Promising to tell on you to my family." Both of them, no doubt. "They're masters of the art of guilt-o-rama."

Ben put up his hands in defeat. "I hardly want to face that. I'll go with you." Dief barked in happiness, no doubt anticipating his own Christmas leftovers.

In an effort to keep his dress pants neat, Ray carefully stepped in the footprints left by previous visitors, making Ben smile. Aside from the amusement inherent in the thought of Ray being careful of his clothing, the sight of Ray putting his arms out for balance as he moved proved endearing. Once they reached the GTO, Ray brushed the snow off his and Ben's clothes in brisk, fast sweeps before he opened the door.

"Your chariot awaits. You even get shotgun."

"Of course I do."

"Hey, Dief could've wanted the passenger seat." Dief barked in agreement with Ray's words.

"You always sit in the back, Dief," Ben told him. "You like the room available to spread out in." Dief grumbled.

Ray sighed. "I can't believe I started this. Get in, you two, before I start sounding too much like my mother."

  


* * *

A few eccentric touches had endowed Ray's apartment with a holiday look. He'd replaced his string of chili pepper lights with a string of stout snowmen lights, each snowman wearing a black top hat and wielding a broom. As Ben removed his coat, he noticed that Ray had hung ornaments and lights from the bicycle suspended on the wall. A silvery garland draped atop the turtle tank perhaps put his pet in a festive mood. A small potted Christmas tree, complete with tiny lights and ornaments, sat on his kitchen counter.

Ray noticed where Ben was looking. "I hate plastic trees, but it always bothers me to see the dumped and dying real trees lying on the curbs with the trash in January, all tied up and bound like crime victims. I'll release this guy into the wild when he gets old enough." He set down his bags and started to take foil-wrapped dishes out of them. "Mum was real keen to cook in a big kitchen again. She liked the Vecchio house a lot. Ma was just glowing under all the house admiring going on. I think Mum misses having a real house sometimes."

Ben started to better understand what Ray had meant when he'd said that talking about his day would make him sound like a "wackjob." Having nothing to add, Ben remained quiet and imagined two strong-willed, caring women fussing over Ray.

Ray started to unwrap things, uncovering macaroni, meatballs, a bit of roast, a few pieces of Italian bread, and various vegetables. One small plate he left wrapped and put in his refrigerator. "Yeah, Ray has two Mommies. I kind of like it, though. Twice the hectoring me about my weight, but twice the caring too." He considered his loot for a moment, then appeared to be carefully arranging the selections on his toaster oven's tray, putting the thicker foods that would need more reheating at the back of the oven.

"Are you going to remove your coat, Ray?"

"Impatient Mountie."

"I simply want to see how you dressed for your family day." Greatly daring, Ben took Ray's cap off and got a smile as a reward.

"Thanks. The hair wanted to be free." Ray ruffled his hair to make it stand up better, something Ben would have been happy to do. "Fine, fine. Lemme just start this stuff up first." Once Ray set the temperature and timer, he removed his coat to reveal a navy-toned suit paired with a fine white dress shirt and blue tie with tiny silver stars on it. His ensemble flattered him. "I look like a dork in the monkey suit, hey?" he asked as he loosened his tie.

"Actually, it's quite fetching." As another suit had been in the Denny Scarpa case. If Ray wore suspenders again, Ben wondered if Ray might be persuaded to take the jacket off to display them.

"Yeah? Well, maybe I won't change out of all of it, then." As Ray sat down and started to take off his snow boots, he said, "Hey, give me yours too so we can put them in the bathroom to dry. I don't want any wet surprises on my floor."

"Understandable."

"Then we exchange prezzies."

"I get the feeling you were one of those children who woke his parents at the break of dawn Christmas morning."

"Fine detecting skills ya got there, Constable."

"A shame you couldn't keep such hours into your adulthood."

"You wanna give me a kid's energy back, we'll talk about it." Ray took his jacket off, revealing suspenders, then picked up his coat and boots and Fraser's before disappearing into the bathroom, occasionally exclaiming, "Damn that's cold!" as his bare feet stepped in a puddle. He yelled, "I already gave Dief his gift."

"What did you get him?"

"It's up to him to tell ya if he wants to."

"I hope you didn't give him junk food."

"I'm always giving him junk food. Nothing special or Christmasy about that."

Ben looked down at Dief, who simply smirked at him and for once remained silent. Ben sighed.

Ray returned, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. "Presents?"

Ray looked so absurdly young in that moment that Ben had to tease him. "And how do you know I brought you something?"

"The nicest, most proper guy in all the world doesn't get his partner something for _the_ major, gift-giving holiday? Don't think so. And I got _you_ something. 'Sides, you have that small pack slung over your shoulder."

"So I do." Ben rummaged through his pack, taking longer than he had to just to watch Ray thrum with impatience, before pulling out a box wrapped in red and gold. "Merry Christmas, Ray."

Ray's eyes lit up. "For me? You shouldn't have."

"I'll keep that in mind for next time."

Ray grabbed it before Ben started to take it away. "But I'm glad you did." Ray sat on the couch and started to slowly and carefully unwrap his gift, although the effort not to rip into it obviously took its toll on him.

It hurt to watch. "Just unwrap it already," Ben said as he sat beside Ray.

Ray nodded his head in a thankful salute, then peeled off the wrappings in seconds with amazing skill and efficiency, no doubt practiced over his lifetime. He reached in and smiled as he pulled the carving up out of the box. "Heeeey. This is so cool. Nobody makes stuff for me. Was this from the wood you bought at the mall? It smells all pine fresh."

"I'm afraid not. I ended up whittling that down to nothing during the tumultuous Secret Santa swapping done around me. This wood is exported from the Yukon."

"Like you, huh? Yeah, people kept trading their picks with me too. Don't feel bad. You can't trust those mall logs anyway." Ray examined it from all angles and ran his long fingers down its sides. "Mmmm. It's so smooth. So this is an elk?"

"Why, yes, it is, Ray," Ben answered, surprised.

"Cool. So you see me as some kind of fast-moving, long-legged beastie?"

"Hmm."

"'Hmm' what?"

"I'm intrigued by the unusual vocabulary you're using today. Words like 'keen' and 'beastie.'"

"You'll have to blame my mum for that. I start using her words and accent when I spend enough time around her. Then I'd talk to Dad, and I'd be back to normal. Or I'd talk to the Vecchios, and be normal with a bit of an Italian accent. It's a little thing I do without thinking about it."

And Ben had missed it. He'd wondered sometimes what Ray's voice would sound like if his accent hadn't made it so nasal. "I see."

"Haven't been able to do that with yours, though."

"I don't have an accent."

"Canadian is the one true English? Schyeah, right. Nah, it's those funky vowels you have. They're pretty, but I can't pick them up."

"I'm flattered and insulted all at once."

"Yeah. So around you, I go more Chicago." Ray shook his head. "'Beastie.' Who knows where old-timers pick up their words? Oh, don't you dare say anything."

"I see that I don't have to comment on your slang."

"And you just did. You suck, Fraser."

"Yet you strong-armed me into spending Christmas with you. What does that make you?"

"Brain damaged. Isn't it keen? And you still didn't answer my question."

"Which question?"

"Good try."

"I thought it might be a rhetorical question."

"How could 'so you see me as some kind of fast-moving, long-legged beastie?' possibly be a rhetorical question?"

"You might have been thinking aloud to yourself."

A sharp ping! from the kitchen brought Ray up and in there like a shot. "Din-din's warmed. I gotta tell ya, Fraser, it was some spread. I'm surprised Italians can move with all the food they scarf down. I don't know how Frannie keeps her figure. Ma brought out spaghetti, meatballs, and a ton of bread. Great stuff. After I pigged out on that, she brought out the _real_ meal. Can you believe all of that other stuff was just appetizers? Geez. Here ya go, Dief. Ma made this special for you."

It certainly smelled wonderful.

When Ray returned to Ben's line of vision, he put a TV tray with its cargo of food-laden plate and a full cup down in front of Ben on the couch. Ben asked, "Ray, surely we watch enough television. Shouldn't Christmas dinner be eaten at a table?"

Ray set a stack on tapes on top of the VCR, then inserted one. "We eat at tables all the time. Here's a part of my Christmas tradition for ya: the watching of the holiday movies. First up is _White Christmas_, like what we're actually having today, though ours doesn't have all the singing."

"We could have singing."

"No 'Santa Drives a Pickup.' I'm begging you."

"If you feel driven to begging, then I shall refrain."

"Thanks. I never trusted that Bing Crosby, but I love this film. It's cool to have a musical where most of the production numbers have a real world explanation for being there. I was always one of those people who got annoyed when all these strangers started to sing and dance in this coordinated, practiced way. Mum told me I was being too literal, but it's just the way I feel."

Unable to resist teasing, Ben said, "Actually, in Canada--"

"If the common Canadian can burst out into a song and dance number in perfect sync with a crowd anywhere and at anytime, I don't wanna know."

"Understood."

"I love the 'Sisters' number. Have to appreciate the way Danny Kaye had no problems with looking silly for a good cause."

"What follows _White Christmas_?"

"_Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer_, the classic one, even if I end up wanting to kick Santa and the other reindeer in the head."

"Really, Ray."

"You've seen it?"

"We do get American television programming, often to our despair. Still, I don't understand your antipathy."

"What? Oh, you mean the need to kick 'em in the head. It's like this: if I were Rudolph, I'd pull the sleigh for the kids of the world, then tell Santa and all the reindeer who suddenly found my freakishness useful to kiss my ass. The poor little guy was already useful in the same way the others were, but he had that nose, which made no difference to his ability to fly exactly like the others, but they discriminated against him anyway. I always watch the movie hoping that the end'll be different this time, and Rudolph, the dentist elf, and the misfit toys go off together to start their own country, and the bigots aren't ever allowed in. Of course, the end never really changes, but I can dream, right?"

"I have to admit that Santa Claus and the reindeer were hardly fair-minded."

"They were cruel."

"Yes, it would seem so. It's heartening to know that you're every bit as concerned with the plight of oppressed reindeer, elves, and toys as you are with your human kind."

"It's just the kind of guy I am, Fraser. I would've gotten _The Grinch_ too, but I procrastinated too long and couldn't scare up a copy for love or money. I love the dog in it. Now start digging into your food, or I'll tell my mothers on you."

"Momma's boy."

"And proud of it. Let me know how you like the roast beast." Still wearing much of his suit, Ray curled up next to Ben on the couch. Ben noticed that he had rather long toes on his slender feet.

"Won't your feet get cold?" Ben asked. Ray kept his apartment very warm, but still.

"I have to watch these films barefoot. Tradition. It's either that or find a pair of footsie pajamas that fits me, and that's not happening tonight and in front of company. 'Sides, I have a blanket next to the couch that I'll end up draping over us at some point. Likewise traditional."

"Ah. You won't be eating?"

"I put one more thing in my mouth, I'll burst, I swear."

Ben could swear that his mind hadn't been so dirty once upon a time. "Indeed." He speared a carrot, then turned when he heard Ray snickering. "What?"

"Sorry. We were playing Scattergories, and one of the Tonys kept mixing his C and K words up, which screwed his scores to hell. Thing is, he couldn't just admit that he can't spell worth a damn. He's all, 'There _is_ a 'carrot' that starts with a K!' which had Frannie responding that the one with a K wasn't a _vegetable_." Ray looked over at Ben, who'd simply raised an eyebrow. "Guess you had to be there. They take their games seriously."

"How did you do?"

"I kicked ass. Nobody ever expects me to be a champion speller, but it's not like knowing the first letter is a big hardship or anything anyway. Mainly the game's just about knowing lots of words. With how I talk, I have to. Uhm. You haven't opened your gift from me yet." Ray quickly handed Ben a box.

It had been wrapped neatly and with obvious care in silver ribbon and deep blue paper festooned with silver stars. Ben opened it slowly and carefully, unwilling to mar it, and for once Ray let him take the time, though he fidgeted throughout.

Lifting the lid and peeling the paper aside revealed a set of handcuffs. Ben wondered at that, but then he saw that the chain had been broken and the two cuffs linked together though one another. And he understood what they were. He had the sudden urge to see if he could smell lake water on them, but the slight sheen to them suggested that they'd been polished, though lightly. The wearing remained.

The wearing was part of the point.

Ray still fidgeted. "You know what they are."

Ben had to push his voice out of his throat. "Yes, Ray." The darkest night of their partnership rose to mind along with the reaffirmation that had followed on board that replica of the Bounty.

Even earlier, Ray had let Ben handcuff him with a different pair of cuffs in a show of utter trust during the Volpe situation.

Ray's words tumbled out in a rush. "I had, like, this big speech prepared about partnership and always being there, best as I can, and trying to avoid letting little, stupid things get in the way of us, but it's all just gone, total whiteout in my head. I mean, the feelings are there, but the words are gone. I think it was a good speech too. I kept these handcuffs for myself as a reminder of all the stuff that I was going to talk about in my speech, but I think it's time I passed them on to you to show you that we're still partners and we're still buddies and that you're the only person aside from myself that I let endanger my life in wildly bizarre ways." Ray took a breath. "If you'll still have me."

The malfeasants had used Ray's own cuffs on him as a restraint before Ben had found him and shot the cuffs' chain apart, but his ownership obviously wasn't why Ray had kept them.

Ben could barely breathe. "Yes, Ray. Beyond a doubt."

Ray's mouth twitched into a slow smile. "Uhm. I have keys in the bottom of the box."

Ben could only do one thing in response to show his acceptance of the gift and what it meant. He unlocked and separated the cuffs, then closed them around his own wrists, feeling the cool metal slowly warm against his skin.

Ray's eyes were very intense. "Oh."

"Thank you, Ray. I've never had a better gift. Shall we partake of the traditional Christmas videos?"

"Yeah. Yeah." Looking a bit stunned, Ray wrapped a blanket around them, then used the remote to start his first selection.

Ben lost himself in his surroundings: good food, Ray's warmth curled at his side under the blanket with him, and a tale of love and friendship unfolding on the television in front of him. Occasionally the dangling chain from one or the other of his cuffs clanked against the metal tray he used as a table. Midway through the "Choreography" production number, Ray asked, "How long are you gonna wear those?"

"You wore them for hours until we found an opportunity to take them off. I could do no less."

"Oh."

Ray rendered speechless with emotion made another wonderful gift.

When _White Christmas_ ended and Ray untangled himself to get up and change tapes, Ben said, "You do realize that it's a bit odd for a confessed hater of musicals such as yourself to present two musicals to me."

"The singing and dancing is okay here because _Rudolph_'s an allegory."

"An allegory?"

"An allegory. With puppets."

While Ray had watched _White Christmas_ mostly in a silence that he'd broken only occasionally with laughter, he took a more participatory role with _Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer_. Comments like "C'mon, let the little guy play the reindeer games, you bigots!" made Ben smile.

"You want dessert, Fraser?"

"No, I'm stuffed. Don't get up."

"I just wanted to put the plates in the sink."

"There's no need to stir yourself. I'm comfortable with you here."

"Okay. And the pie's waiting for when you're ready."

With his dinner finished, Ben became far more aware of Ray sitting next to him. More specifically, he became aware of a tantalizing scent Ray gave off, like a mix of pine needles and succulent food, suggestive of comfort and family. Ray smelled the way Ben had always imagined a home should smell during the holidays.

Ben had to get closer.

It was warm here, and he could feel Ray's quickening pulse beat against his lips from just under the smooth skin of Ray's neck. This close, he also detected citrus tones from the blond hair tickling him as well as fading cologne... and something sweet just behind Ray's ear.

Ray shuddered almost convulsively. "What are you doing?" He shivered again. "I'm ticklish, ya know."

At a loss to describe what he was doing, aside from kissing and nearly inhaling his partner, Ben blurted out, "You... just smell delicious."

"Canada doesn't bother to mention that it's sending cannibals across the border, huh? Well, we may be buddies, but you're not getting any Ray drumsticks. That's going too far."

"Hardly that. I can simply scent Christmas dinner from your hair."

"So I'm either a pig or my hair is super absorbent."

"I'd say the latter. However, I fail to understand why I smell vanilla extract behind your ear."

"Behind my-- Man, I thought I got it all. I had a batter fight with my mum this morning."

"Ray!"

"It was a _batter_ fight, and I didn't start it! Well, not since I was a kid. Mum made it a tradition, though, so we were slinging batter at each other while she had me on cake detail today. There's nowhere to hide in a trailer's kitchen, let me tell ya." Ray smiled just from remembering it. "I got her _good_. Not that she didn't nail me good too. And she got some down my neck under my shirt, which is much sneakier than she has any right to be. Dad just watches and pretends he doesn't know us. We showered and changed before we hit the Vecchios'."

"A batter fight."

"Yep. Using spoons and those mixer tools to fling it. The stuff left me all sticky, and it took me forever to wash all of it off. Looks like I wasn't as successful as I thought."

Ben took a moment to imagine the scene--the fight, not Ray showering-- and wondered if Ray had hit that point during the battle where he was laughing so hard that he couldn't breathe anymore. It had scared Ben terribly the first time he'd seen it, but Ray had calmed his worries, assuring him that no harm had been done. In fact, Ray seemed the better for his fit once he caught his breath. It had only happened two other times since in Ben's presence, and he'd been hoping to see it again.

"Had I known that you and your mother would be abusing batter so--" Ben paused.

"Yeah?"

"I might have accepted your invitation to join the various festivities you'd be attending today."

"You see? Keep that in mind next time. And you did accept the last one, because here you are."

"You spent the morning with your parents alone?"

Ray knew what Ben was asking. "Yeah. It was good. They liked their gifts too."

"What did you get your father?"

"Dad has these old photographs, antiques, of his family that he treasures, but they're cracked from being so old. I remembered that this guy owes me a favor.... Anyway, I gave Dad a certificate that says I'll get his photos fixed for him. It made him real happy. I gave Mum a bound leather album the guy put together from photos of me over the last ten years scanned into Photoshop and copies of my citation certificates and a few other things. Mum's been saying forever that she wants more pictures, and it lets Dad see some of the stuff this guy can do. And I think Dad might look at the album himself too."

"That's very... crafty."

"Gotta be, with my dad. I suspect you know about that from experience."

"I do."

"I can give Mum her original present on her birthday. But Dad and me... we were good today. Real good. It all went well. He even got along with the Vecchio clan and became hero of the day when he fixed their train set. It's just a big relief, ya know? A really good day."

_Rudolph_ ended with all of the misfit characters finding a place for themselves once they'd "proved their usefulness," prompting Ray to mutter darkly before turning it off and starting to rewind. Ben said, "It ended the same way it always does," then yawned. He hadn't realized how late it had gotten.

"Yeah, yeah. I still have hopes for next year, though." Ray stood and walked to one of the windows. "You have to stay with me tonight. Snow's really coming down out there."

"Have you forgotten that I'm from the snowiest reaches of Canada, Ray?"

"You beat us on quantity, maybe, but we got you on sheer, malicious quality. Chicago snow will kick your ass and take your last quarter. I can't send you and Dief out into that. You have some clothes here already, and you can sleep in my bed while I take the couch." Ray slid in a new tape and pressed Play, showing a fireplace with logs burning cozily within. "I figured I'd fall asleep in front of the fire anyway."

Ben stood next to him, hoping that direct eye contact would bring his point across better. "I'm not going to put you out of your bed."

"I'm not going to put you out of my bed either, so be a good guest and do what I say."

"I'm much better now, Ray. I don't need to be coddled." Of course the Warfield situation had to come up again. Despite the warmth and camaraderie of the evening, it had lurked under everything like a shadow. "If you're feeling guilty--"

"I am, and I should. I was being a good cop but a bad friend."

"You still believe your initial take on the situation was correct?"

"Yeah. You could do things as a private citizen that a cop would have gotten the department sued for even as you were using the Mountie uniform as a kind of moral bludgeon, and you got lucky in taking Warfield down. Not lucky in getting the crap beaten out of you, but a lot of things fell into place for you perfectly otherwise. If Warfield hadn't lost his patience and sense in dealing with you, making him an embarrassment for the other bosses, they never would have turned on him. You would have gotten his apology, for what that's worth since he obviously didn't mean it, on the slap, but we wouldn't have gotten him. He would've been sprung again, and his lawyers would use what we did as proof that we were harassing him, since our raid on his club wasn't really within the law. Next rap we got him on, the odds would have been better that he'd walk. He'd be untouchable."

"Yet you did raid him."

"He had you beat down, and we couldn't let that pass. That raid was the kind of thing we _wanted_ to do from the start. Besides, we... love you, and it looked like Warfield's goons had broken you on the inside along with the outside. Putting my job and collar on the line was the only thing I could do, and Welsh, Huey, and Dewey felt the same."

"My actions could have jeopardized your chance to ever bring Mr. Warfield to justice." Somehow, it made more sense now than it had before.

Or perhaps now, Ben realized, he was truly listening.

"That's what I was trying to tell you before. Law and justice aren't necessarily the same thing, but the law's in place as it is to try to protect innocent people. It's a shame bad guys can use that too, but we just have to do our best to make sure everybody gets what they deserve."

Ben smiled sadly. "That should be my speech."

"I think it works coming out of my mouth too. Anyway, I was being a good cop there by telling you to let the slap go, choosing our battles so we could win the war. Strategizing. But I was a bad friend. I should have found some way to stand up with you. Thing is, I was doing tough love, trying to get you to back away before you got hurt. I told you over and over that I wasn't going to come running after you this time to back you up, but it turned out you were tougher than my tough love. Or you weren't listening." Ray shook his head. "I didn't want you to get hurt. I had your back the first time Warfield set his goons on you, but... I missed the second. Bad. They could have killed you, and I wouldn't have known until later. They could have killed you."

Ben remembered those long minutes in the alley. As they threw him about, he'd been thinking all the while that any moment now Ray would appear, gun in hand, to equalize the odds again, showing up in an almost magical fashion from some instinctive sense that his partner needed him. Ray had done it so many times before that Ben had come to expect it. When Ray did not show, and the beating stopped only once his assailants decided it should, the pain and feeling of betrayal had been that much worse.

He'd arrogantly made so many assumptions over the past few days, blithely expecting the world to fall into line behind him. It would be all too easy to take the wrong lesson from the 27th's decision to move on Warfield at last, and Ben knew he had to avoid that at all costs.

And Ray _had_ been there for him afterward. He hoped to never again see the look Ray had on his face when he first saw Ben's injuries. Horror. Devastation. Rage, directed inward and outward. Ray had been torn between racing Ben to the hospital or beating everyone in the club he could get his hands on, starting with the bouncer. Ben had traded heavily on his injuries to dissuade Ray from either course of action, but the reaction had been everything he could hope for. Ray obviously cared, deeply.

The cuffs showed that again. Ray had kept them as a reminder to never let their partnership reach such a point as it had before and during the case involving the ghost ship. Recent events had hurt him enough as well that he'd gifted them to Ben as a sign of their bond.

Ray had done so much in these cuffs. Struggling, freezing, learning to swim, swimming, rappelling, fighting. Drowning. Ben remembering Ray floating next to him. Unresponsive to his slaps. Dying. Ray's lips had been cold against his as he breathed life into his partner.

"So I tried to at least give you a good Christmas," Ray said, "especially after your toast at the station told me how you felt that most of your Christmases had sucked, but you turned down the feast, family, and big tree edition I offered. I did my best with the baby tree, leftovers, and moi version you accepted."

"Ray, I can say in all honesty that this is the best Christmas I've ever had."

"Yeah?"

"Yes." And they stood too close, with the emotion in the room too thick, for Ben _not_ to do this. If necessary, he would pass it off as a Canadian thing, a gesture of bonhomie, buddy breathing.... This time when Ben's mouth met Ray's, it found warmth... and an immediate response. Ray's lips moved as he pressed closer and clung. What Ben had intended to be one chaste kiss turned into reciprocated passionate kisses and Ray's hands stroking lightly, carefully, all over him.

Could it always have been this easy? Just lean forward and claim Ray with no words to stumble over? How long ago could he have done this?

They pressed together and kissed until Ben tasted blood. Ray drew away, though not far, not with Ben holding him so tightly. "You're still injured," Ray said softly as he licked Ben's blood off his own lips. His eyes took in the bruises, cuts, and scrapes remaining on Ben's face.

The split in Ben's bottom lip had reopened. "It doesn't hurt." Actually, it felt a bit raw, but that hardly mattered, not now.

"I can't. You've bled enough recently. I have enough control to know when to back off."

"I don't know if I do."

Ray shuddered at those words. How gratifying. "I'm putting you to bed. To sleep."

"This changes things." In all the best ways, Ben hoped.

"I know. The start of which is that I'm gonna be in bed with you. Oh, _now_ you wanna go, huh?"

"I'm an optimist."

Ray gently directed him to the bedroom. "Never thought you'd be so easy."

"In the right cause." Ben saw a pair of his long johns already laid out on Ray's bed. "You planned out the whole evening?"

"Not all of it." Ben couldn't see Ray behind him but could hear the smile in his words.

It took a bit of effort to slide his shirtsleeves over the cuffs on his wrists, but Ben managed. Once he had his shirt off, he heard Ray draw in a breath, then say, "I'll kill them. I'll hunt them down and fucking kill them."

Ben hadn't been able to see his back very well, but he imagined it looked like a collage of bruises in black, purple, green, yellow, and burgundy the same way his stomach and the backs of his knees did. "No, Ray." He continued to change into the long johns, doing it as quickly as possible to avoid letting Ray see the rest.

Ray sighed. "You just hurt your back during the Scarpa case too."

"Also through foolhardiness." Ben couldn't stop himself from letting out a jaw-cracking yawn.

"Won't fight you on that. Bed."

By the time Ben turned to face him, Ray had already changed into an undershirt and sweatpants, apparently ready to go to bed purely for sleeping purposes. Ray quirked an eyebrow in a way that suggested he knew exactly what Ben was thinking and how much disappointment rested under it.

Ray's bed was softer and much wider than the cot Ben used. Luxurious, especially when Ray went under the covers to lay next to him.

Ray laughed. "Hands! Geez, Fraser, buy me a drink first."

"Touchy sense of honor, considering that you were the one who invited me into your bed."

"Man, why is it that I'm never the one who comes out of these things looking good?" Ray gently kissed Ben's face and stroked his hair until a wince Ben couldn't hold back made him pull away.

"Damn it," Ben muttered.

"You got a lump on the back of your head. Missed that before."

"I hoped you would continue to."

"I'm getting flashbacks to that scene in _Raiders of the Lost Ark_ where Indy says the only thing that doesn't hurt is a spot on his elbow. I can't do this to you."

"I _want_ you to."

"Look, guy, I tend to get a bit wild. I don't even care if you're feeling no pain at the time if you wake up a mess tomorrow, and you're obviously in pain when I touch you now. I'm not into sadism. I want our first time to be fun and good." Ray turned his head and smirked. "We got company."

"Diefenbaker! Do I interrupt your trysts?" Ben asked. Dief just settled himself on top of the blankets, lolled his tongue, and looked satisfied. "No, I'm not saying I _want_ to watch next time."

"Don't sweat it. When the time comes, he won't be _able_ to stay up here."

"Tease."

"Hey, I'm not writing out any checks you won't be able to cash later."

"It doesn't bother you that we may have a nosy half-wolf watching."

"I'm okay as long as he doesn't start giving us pointers or go into detail about us to his friends." Ray sighed. "Man, I can't even rub noses with you."

"Unfair."

"Now who's getting a look into somebody's childhood? You're doing a good impression of a five-year-old right now. C'mon. You're getting verrrrrry sleepy. Your eyelids are getting so heavy you can't even keep them up anymore...."

"Ray."

"I don't know your administration manual, so I can't use that on ya to put you to sleep. Sleeeeep! In heavenly peace!"

"You're unhinged."

"You're not the first person to say so."

Ben rested a part of his face that didn't hurt on Ray's chest and let himself drift... though not before he let himself get a good grope in. He heard Ray mutter, "Now who's a tease?" before he fell asleep smiling.

  


* * *

Ben felt like he was floating in some wide, warm lake. Comforting, even in the darkness. But he had someone tangled up with him, which made him panic a little until he recognized Ray through scent and touch. Ben rubbed his face in fluffy hair before he pulled Ray in closer and went back to sleep.

  


* * *

As Ben resurfaced into the waking world, a soft voice asked, "Achy? You can tell me. Don't be a hero now." Ray.

"Mmmph," Ben managed to answer, though he didn't think it would really qualify as a response.

"Gotcha. Be right back." A gentle kiss on Ben's forehead preceded Ray rolling away and out of bed.

If Ben had been more awake, he might have tried to cling. Instead, he remained huddled under the blankets, drowsing under Ray's warmth and scent. While he felt fine right now, tiny twinges told him that he might begin to hurt again once he started moving about. He found that he didn't mind so much.

When he heard Ray return, Ben pushed some of the blankets aside and sat up, prompting Ray to say, "Geez, we didn't take those cuffs off you last night. Sorry." Ray's hair looked even more fiercely independent than usual this morning, arcing out in many directions.

"They're fine." Ben couldn't help his interest in the contents of the tray Ray held, especially the covered plate that sat in its center.

"No, they're coming off."

"Tray first."

"Wow, I manage to rub off after an overnighter, don't I? Okay, okay." Ray set the tray down astride Ben's legs and whipped the plate's top off.

"That's pumpkin pie."

"My mum's pie, with whipped cream even. Everybody knows you can't take aspirin on an empty stomach. And I also have water on for tea. Aw, don't make that face at me; I have to fuss over somebody, and you're it. I had two mother hens on me yesterday, and all that mothering has to get out of me somehow. Ruin my rep otherwise." He sounded gruff but looked utterly pleased with himself, like a cat that had a bowl of cream, a tin of tuna, and a furnished canary cage nearby.

"Far be it from me to jeopardize your reputation." In any case, Ben rather enjoyed having his pillows fluffed behind his back. Under Ray's watchful gaze, he swallowed the aspirin with his glass of cool water and took a forkful of pie, enjoying the spiced pumpkin and sweet cream.

"Just don't get to expecting dessert for breakfast in bed every day. So, I've got ya, and you're going nowhere. Even you get Boxing Day off, right? Seeing as how it's a Canadian federal holiday and all."

"Why... yes. Ray, you--"

"Looked it up, yeah. I was kinda disappointed that it wasn't what I thought it was; it'd be more fun if it was. Instead--" A whistling kettle interrupted him. "Be right back."

Ben felt terribly decadent eating pie for breakfast in bed, but he thought he could get accustomed to this kind of lifestyle. A flash of red at the corner of his eye distracted him. "I don't want to hear a word out of you, Dad."

His father hmphed and disappeared, perhaps leaving so easily for fear of what he might witness if he chose to stay around.

Ray returned with two steaming mugs, one bearing the scent of chocolatey coffee and the other with a tea ball chain dangling from its rim. At Ben's questioning look, Ray said, "It looked cool, okay? It's kind of fun to put the leaves together and close it up, like you're putting a puzzle together. Much more fun than a teabag. I don't wanna hear about it."

Touched, Ben said, "I only wanted to thank you."

"Uhm, well, you're welcome and all." Ray put Ben's mug down on the tray, carefully sat down nearby on the edge of the bed, and took a sip from his own. He had the keyring for the cuffs hooked on his right pinky. Ray put his mug down on the night table and uncuffed Ben, checking his wrists for chafe marks and finding none. "Crazy, sentimental Mountie," he muttered, obviously trying to hide his smile by keeping his face down. He linked the cuffs together again and set them down on the tray.

Ben really could get used to being fussed over. "I'd like to propose a toast."

"This gonna be like your last toast?"

"No, it won't be anywhere near as bitter."

"Ha. I figured you knew how harsh that one sounded. 'But I've learned to forgive all of that,' my ass."

"May I make my toast?"

"Sure, sure." Ray raised his coffee mug.

"To Christmas traditions, both old and newly formed."

"You saying we'll do this again next year?"

"This or better." Then Ben realized how forward he sounded. "If you don't mind."

"Mind. You'd need a crowbar to pull me away." Ray shook his head and clinked his mug against Ben's. "To Christmases that get better and better."

"I can definitely drink to that."

 

### End


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